(Credit: American Mcgee and Electronic Arts)

Screams.

I remember through the smoke,

Flames licking up the walls.

The rabbit showed me the way out,

And as I stood there watching the fire

With a group of strangers

More screams

And I recognised their voices.

And it was not over when my childhood home was a black ruin.

It was not over when the orphanage swallowed me up.

It was not over when Dr. Deadeyes told me that some memories are not constructive,

And I dissolved into a swarm of blue butterflies.

No.

The screaming will never be done.